


King Arthur's Birthday

by jd_1110473



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Everyone Is Gay, Kingdom of Size Queens, M/M, Mpreg, Oral Sex, World Without Women, still medieval - sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2018-08-29 15:14:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8494846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jd_1110473/pseuds/jd_1110473
Summary: King Arthur turns forty, but desperately needs an heir. Merlin might be able to help.





	1. King Arthur's Birthday

Midsummer was still a month away but the sunlight was strong and it was making the King’s chamber very warm.

Arthur pulled a pillow over his head to try and keep the sun out of his eyes. Clearly the servants had let him sleep far later than usual today. Stretching each arm out to his side, Arthur could tell he was alone in the bed. Unfortunately. But his scratchy throat, sore muscles and general stickiness told him he had not been alone for that long.

He would definitely need a wash before Council.

Sitting up, he could see that clothes had been laid out for him on the table along with some breakfast, and there was a tub of water in front of the empty fireplace. Arthur wondered if one of the servant boys had seen him in such a state or if Leon had arranged it before he left this morning. It certainly would not have occurred to Gwaine or Lance.

Lifting the sheets off his body, Arthur walked over to the table and tore off a piece of bread. He avoided the chair - judging by the amount of dried, sticky seed between his cheeks, he knew that sitting was going to be a challenge today.

He might be getting older, but King Arthur knew how to celebrate a birthday.

…

Arthur was right to avoid chairs because the ones in the Council Chamber were uncushioned and uncomfortable indeed. Thankfully it was a short meeting today with only three attendees. Sitting across from him, Leon was not usually the type to smirk, but it looked like a challenge to keep a smile off his face today. Even Sir Balinor, the Chief Scholar, seemed to have an air of amusement though he remained outwardly stoic.

Unfortunately the conversation being offered by George, the Chief Steward, was not a good distraction. George had served Arthur and his father for decades faithfully, but he was not an entertaining man. Now well into his eighties, even less so.

“And finally My Lord, the preparations for this evening’s feast are well underway. Sir Leon has given permission for most of the Knights and Guardsmen to attend and I am sure it will be a splendid occasion for you," said George.

“Thank you George,” replied Arthur. “Under your supervision I am confident it will be my greatest birthday ever. I’m sure that today will be a very busy day, so please do not let me keep you from continuing your tremendous work.”

George bowed in his chair a little, preening from the compliment before rising and leaving the room.

“Sir Balinor,” continued Arthur. “You have a large pile of papers in front of you, they cannot all concern me can they?”

“No My Lord,” said Balinor, arranging them. “They are mainly my burden, only one matter of frustration to discuss today. Our spy in Deira requests permission to return immediately. It appears that he has found himself in a tricky situation, having spent an evening with a young enemy soldier and now finds himself with child.” He frowned a little, looking displeased.

“Balinor, this is outrageous,” exclaimed Arthur. “We sent him there to work, not to find fresh faces to fuck. That is reckless and dangerous behaviour.”

“Yes My Lord, I agree,” Balinor replied, reading from his parchment. “And I will be making that very clear to him on his return, but in the meantime I must consider his replacement. He says he has two months until he begins to show and I do have a couple of scholars who have the language skills. They could arrive in time to take over his responsibilities.”

Arthur nodded. “Very well, I will agree with your recommendation regarding his replacement. Keep him in position until they arrive.” Arthur paused. “And tell him his soldier can come with him. After all, he would be hanged if their relationship were discovered. Provided he feels his lover to be trustworthy and willing to be converted of course.

“Has he had time to do any actual work while in Deira?” asked Arthur.

“There has been no movement of forces and defences remain as they have been. He goes on to say that King Oswic’s wedding was apparently a success. The bride was the child of a minor noble according to this,” Balinor read. “And he makes the veiled observation that a child who looks so young is unlikely to have had her first bleed.”

Arthur grimaces. “The old man’s tastes haven’t changed then. Very well, make it all happen Sir Balinor.”

“Very well My Lord.”

“Sir Leon,” Arthur said, turning his attention elsewhere. “What does the Captain of the Knights have to report this morning?”

“I begin by offering apologies from Sir Ross for his absence,” said Leon. He appeared to have regained control over his errant smirk. “Unfortunately there was a melee at a tavern in the lower town early this morning. More than a score of men were involved so the Town Guard are somewhat occupied today. Sir Ross has promised to report back to you as soon as he can.”

“Very well,” replied Arthur. “Any idea of what caused the fight? Should we be worried?”

“Something about gambling debts I believe, My Lord. Nothing of concern.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Very well. And to your knights, you will begin the latest intake of pages and squires in a couple of weeks. Any standouts this year?”

“The usual combination of successes and failures, I believe. However there is one particular man I need to speak with you about,” began Leon. “The squire Percival. He is about to turn eighteen next week, but I must recommend to you that he be knighted at the next ceremony. He still requires training no doubt, but a boy that tall, that broad, that powerful cannot be kept playing with the squires. I need him with the rest of the men.”

“Very well, I have no objections. Sir Balinor?” Arthur gestured to the scholar.

“Unusual My Lord, but exceptions have been made before. If Sir Leon believes it to be the best course of action then he has my full support,” stated Balinor.

“And he has mine too,” replied Arthur. “And with that I declare this meeting closed. Too much business on too special a day.” Arthur grinned at the men, rising from the table.

“Indeed My Lord,” replied Leon, also getting to his feet. “It is not every day a man turns forty.” The smirk had returned.

“It will happen to you in just a few short months Sir Leon,” snarked Arthur. “When I’m sure our celebration will be just as… relentless. Plans for the day gentlemen? Leon?”

“Gwaine, Lance and I are taking the boys to the river,” replied Leon. “They will be furious if you do not attend.”

“Well I have no intention of disappointing my nephews. Just give me a few…” began Arthur, but was interrupted by Balinor.

“Actually My Lord, there is something I would like to discuss with you, in private if we could.” Balinor showed regret but was unmoveable. Arthur’s shoulders dropped slightly.

“Very well. Another time Leon. I will just have to endure my nephews’ fury.”

Leon looked disappointed but bowed respectfully and left the room.

“Well Balinor, what is the matter? And why couldn’t it wait until later?” asked Arthur, returning to his seat at the head of the table.

“My Lord, this is indeed a happy day and I do not wish to darken it, but it would be remiss of me to consider our conversation from the same time last year, and wonder if you had given it any more thought,” replied the Chief Scholar.

Arthur scowled. He remembered that conversation very well.

“Well Balinor,” replied Arthur. “You can see for yourself that the issue has not been resolved. There is no child in my arms, no nursery in my chamber, no heir to the kingdom.”

“I know that My Lord, but I am concerned that you are not giving this issue enough attention. You are still young enough to bear a child, Albion men do so into their forties all the time. We cannot afford an argument over succession when we are still recovering from the war. It would only encourage our neighbours to launch another from which we would not recover. I urge you to…”

“Do you think I do not know that!” shouted the King, slamming his fist on the table. Balinor silenced himself but remained emotionless. It is hard to be intimidated by a king who had cried on your shoulder more than once.

“I know all this,” continued Arthur, a little calmer. “I have known this from the moment I saw my fathers slaughtered on the battlefield. I have known this from the moment I stood in that tent facing King Oswic and agreed terms. I am reminded of this every time I walk past an empty house in our city, knowing their former residents are buried on the battlefield. I am reminded of this every time I look at my nephews. I know that I must bear a child or a 500-year-old unbroken line ends with me.

“But Balinor I have not been pure and virginal, and you know this. Before I was King I would sleep with every Knight or Guard who’d even wink at me. Last night, and I know you know this, Leon, Gwaine and Lance pumped me full of so much come I drowned in it.” At this even the stoic Balinor blushed.

“And still nothing. I have never sired a child in another, and I have never experienced those five minutes of agony telling me my body was adjusting to having another life within.” Arthur paused and took a breath.

“There is something wrong with me,” Arthur said. “And it is time you and I stop pretending and move on. In fact I order you to.”

“But My Lord,” Balinor started, but the King interrupted.

“Make it happen Balinor. Write the laws. If the King does not father a child then we must work out what the alternative shall be. Bring the alternatives to our next full Council and we will discuss my humiliation among all the nobles and officers.”

“Very well My Lord. But before we have those discussions, can I make one suggestion?” asked Balinor. Arthur nodded.

“Thank you My Lord. Do you remember my son Merlin?”

“Yes of course,” replied Arthur. “Though from before the war I believe and my strongest memories are of you and your beloved worrying about him. How is the boy and why is he relevant?”

“Well he is hardly a boy anymore, My Lord. Many years passed his majority and making me feel old. But he is now one of our most promising healers and has done a great deal of work on the human body from examining Albion men as well as reading some of our earliest texts. I believe, and the elder healers agree with me, that he may have some knowledge of how to solve our problem before we take the step of changing the laws of succession.”

Arthur’s face darkened. “You wish me to discuss my invirility with your son? You wish to embarrass me that much Balinor?”

“I would only make this suggestion if I genuinely thought it could help,” the Chief Scholar replied.

“Very well,” Arthur sighed. “If, as I expect, this comes to naught and we must change the law then the entire realm will know of my disorder. I suppose what difference does it make if Merlin knows a few months earlier.

“Bring him to my chambers this afternoon Balinor. I will not have the servants overhear this conversation.”

“Very well, My Lord.”

...

Outside the city, the forests and fields of Albion looked green and lush under the summer sunshine. Normally a stream flowing through a forest would be a wonderful place for quiet contemplation; where you could hear the fish in the water and the birds in the trees. But at the bend of this particular river the sounds of nature had been replaced by the screeching and laughter of children.

Poor Leon was standing waist deep in the river, trying desperately to not be drowned by his sons.

“I could use a little help here,” he called out to his companions on the bank.

“Nah, you’re fine,” replied Gwaine.

“Stop shouting! You’ll scare the horses,” added Lance, grinning.

Lance and Gwaine had no intention of moving. They had both stripped off and were absorbing all of the light and heat from the Sun that they could. Besides, from their position they had the greatest view in the world; their tanned, muscular, chiselled lover playing and laughing with their beloved children.

Though their beloved children were behaving like devils at that particular moment. Rupert was hanging onto his father by the neck trying to pull him underwater, while his two brothers held onto each arm helping him. Leon may have been his father but in character he took after his sire completely, as wild as Gwaine had been at his absolute worst. And as always, the ten-year-old was leading his two much calmer younger brothers into trouble with him.

Leon had had enough and started to walk back to the bank with a child hanging off each limb. He walked up to Gwaine and Lance, blocking out the sunlight and dripping river water all over them.

“Here, it’s your turn,” he said, flinging each kid into their laps with Gwaine getting a couple of elbows to the stomach. “I’m going for a real swim.” And he threw himself back into the water, stroking to the other side of the river.

“Gwaine, Gwaine, Gwaine, it’s your turn,” demanded Rupert, sitting up on Gwaine’s chest. “Come swimming with me.”

“Ah, how about no, you little demon,” replied Gwaine. “I saw what you did to your father and I think you’ve had enough anyway. Put your clothes back on and go check on the horses.” Sitting up and grabbing Rupert to keep him still, Gwaine points at his face, “And don’t spook them.”

“I won’t,” Rupert said, before jumping up and pelting full speed into the trees without a stitch of clothing on.

Gwaine sighed before flopping back to the ground. He looked across to see Lance smiling at the sky, with one calm child under each arm.

“That boy is completely insane,” said Gwaine.

“He is uncannily like you,” replied Lance. “Jacob, go get dressed and take Rupert his clothes,” he said, tapping Rupert on the shoulder. “In my left saddlebag you’ll find some treats for the horses. Only one each.”

“OK Dad,” Jacob replied, happily jumping up and getting dressed before following his brother’s path into the trees.

“You want to go with your brothers?” asked Lance of Eoin, who seemed happy dozing between his father and his sire. At eight years old, Eoin was the youngest, though Jacob was only three months older.

“No, I’m fine here,” replied Eoin. “Why didn’t Uncle Arthur come? He promised he would.”

Lance looked at Gwaine, raising an eyebrow.

“Sir Balinor made him do work instead,” replied Gwaine. “And you know how scary Sir Balinor is don’t you?”

Eoin nodded. Balinor didn’t teach children as young as Eoin but they were all scared of the Chief Scholar. “Even on his birthday?” he asked.

“Even on his birthday,” said Gwaine mournfully.

“Well what about tomorrow? I have to wish him a happy birthday. Make it happen Dad.” Eoin might be nowhere as outrageous as Rupert, he could be just as demanding in his own way.

“I promise to take you to him tomorrow my little one. Now go get dressed. I’m going to drag Leon out of the river so we can get you back to the School. Alright?” asked Gwaine.

“OK Dad,” Eoin said. He stood up and picked up his clothes and Rupert’s. “The teachers said we get pudding after dinner tonight.”

“Well you better hurry up so you don’t miss any then,” replied Lance, pretending to lunge for Eoin. Eoin screeched and ran off to meet his brothers.

As soon as Eoin was out of sight, Gwaine jumped on Lance, holding him to the ground and kissing him soundly. Lance let him for a few seconds, feeling the blood flow south, before pushing up and rolling them over.

“Naughty boy,” whispered Lance. He leant down to kiss Gwaine again deeply, but only for a moment. “We don’t have time for this and I’m not having any of the kids walking in on us. Again.”

Gwaine pouted as Lance stood up. He propped himself up on his elbows while Lance bent over to pick up his trousers and put them on.

“You’re hardly discouraging me when you’re giving me a show like that,” leered Gwaine. Lance rolled his eyes and threw Gwaine’s clothes at his face.

“You’re oversexed. We fucked so hard last night my cock still aches a little. And after the feast tonight you know an orgy will break out in the barracks. Now get dressed while I see if I can spot Leon.” Lance turned to survey the riverbank opposite. Leon appeared to be collecting willow bark while stark naked.

Gwaine reluctantly did what his partner ordered and started to put his clothes on. “Just because we’ll be having some fun with all the other knights later doesn’t mean I can’t get it up for one of my favourites right now,” he snarked. “You just have to promise that you’ll give me a few minutes of your undivided attention then. Maybe on Arthur’s throne this time,” he said, winking at Lance but his lover was busy waving at Leon to come back.

“I doubt Arthur will be in the mood tonight,” Lance said, returning his attention to Gwaine. “If Balinor has been at him about an heir all afternoon, then I would be surprised if Arthur hadn’t smashed his throne into kindling by now.”

“Ugh, if Arthur has a normal life for an Albion man he’ll live until 100 so we don’t need to think about another king for 60 years.”

“I think we’re all glad you keep away from Council Gwaine,” interrupted Leon. Gwaine and Lance both turned at the voice of their lover, Gwaine going a little weak at the knees at the sight of his golden companion with the massive chest.

“Want to pass me my trousers?” Leon asked, winking.

…

From his chambers Arthur could see across the castle and the Upper and Lower Towns, all the way to the King’s River in the distance. The sound of clashing swords could be heard from the Knights’ Courtyard, where squires were spending their afternoon training. In contrast there was no sound from the cloisters; one or two scholars could be seen reading but otherwise the Great Library looked peaceful.

Arthur was pondering the imminent arrival of Merlin, no doubt on his way from the Great Library right now. As a healer he would work with the scholars in those halls, all overseen by the Chief Scholar, and Merlin’s sire.

Arthur had told Balinor he could remember Merlin, but it was a hazy memory from a decade ago of a tall, lanky looking boy. What Arthur could definitely remember was Balinor and his lover Huni fretting over their boy getting himself into all sorts of scrapes. But that was many years ago.

And now the King felt a little nervous and he was irritated at himself for feeling that way. Because sex was not a taboo subject in Albion, in fact for almost all men it was frequent and blatant. But for Arthur, having this conversation felt like having to admit he lacked the basic virility that every other man in Albion took for granted.

“Well at least I can be comfortable while I die inside,” he thought, taking off his outer robe and boots, leaving him in a red shirt and trousers.

He was interrupted from his thoughts by a knock at the door. Arthur took a deep breath.

“Enter!” he called. The door opened and in walked the man in question, closing the door behind him.

If Arthur had walked past this man in the corridors of the castle he would not have known him to be Balinor’s son, for he did not recognise him at all. Merlin was still tall but had filled out somewhat, though still thin by Albion standards. Dressed in the traditional white robe of a healer, he made a handsome figure.

“My Lord,” said Merlin, bowing deeply from the waist.

“Merlin, I understand,” replied Arthur, moving from the window to the table and picking up a jug filled with wine, pouring himself a glass. “I think for this conversation I need wine.” Pointedly not offering any to Merlin, Arthur took a seat.

“Your sire is not joining us?” he asked.

“No,” replied Merlin. “Out of respect for your privacy and mine, he chose not to come. He is a little shy about these matters, unlike most men, and he doesn’t like to think about his son and sex at the same time. Let alone deal with the details we must discuss this afternoon.”

“I thought we would only talk about my sexual failings, not yours.”

“He has great love and respect for you, My Lord, even if he does not choose to show it.”

Arthur took a sip of his wine. “I do vaguely remember you as a child Merlin, but you are clearly not one anymore. Have you been studying the arts of healing long?”

“My Lord, I am twenty-nine,” replied Merlin. “Not only have I been studying and practising healing in the capital for some years, but I served with one of your cohorts of archers in the war as their healer. Do not be fooled into thinking I am too young or inexperienced to help you.” Merlin had obviously had to confront many doubters previously, but his tone verged on outright rudeness towards his King. However, Arthur decided to let it go this time.

“Very well. Has Sir Balinor explained why you are here?”

“He has, but I would like to hear from you why you think I need to be here.”

Arthur took a bigger sip of his wine. “As you know, the laws of succession are clear. The King can only be succeeded by a child born of his own body. A child born from the King’s seed in another man’s body has no right to the throne. Should the King have fathered no sons, then perhaps a brother, an uncle, a nephew or a cousin whose father, not their sire, was immediate royalty. But there’s no one else.”

Arthur filled his glass and started guzzling it down. “My father the King died in the war as well as my sire Sir Sigri, alongside your father Sir Huni I believe,” said Arthur. Merlin nodded in acknowledgment. “I have no brothers, my father had no brothers, other close relatives were either killed in battle or only sired children, they did not father any.

“I have had your sire check the records and the closest in line to the throne is a fourth cousin, a fisherman in Port Albion who is probably unaware of his family connection and is of questionable character apparently. The relationship is so tenuous it would be immediately challenged, probably by some of our larger landholders. And inevitably, our enemies in Deira and elsewhere would take advantage of the situation to finish what they started and conquer us completely.

“I have asked our esteemed Chief Scholar to draft new laws to allow us to choose a successor another way. It will have to be negotiated with our sheriffs, scholars, senior knights and guardsmen. It could be a lengthy and fraught negotiation. And this sort of uncertainty will breed instability, which our enemies would be fools to ignore. So while Sir Balinor does this, he suggested that I discuss this matter with you. And now you have to explain why you should be of any assistance to me at all.” Arthur emptied his glass a second time.

Merlin seemed reluctant to reply, eyeing off the rapidly emptying wine jug. “Well My Lord, I cannot assist in matters of law, but if the Chief Scholar has suggested that we should try to avoid the situation you have outlined, then I may be able to help,” he said. “But I need you to answer questions that may make you a little uncomfortable.”

Arthur, who was now halfway through his third glass, shrugged. “What does it matter now? In a few months every noble in the kingdom will be talking about me. I can no longer be shamed.”

“Very well My Lord,” replied Merlin. “Let me be blunt. How often do you get fucked?”

The King stared at Merlin for a moment, then finished his glass and poured another. “If you must know, just last night I celebrated my birthday with three men who all came in me twice. Two of them fucked me at the same time even.” Arthur puffed out his chest a little at that. But Merlin was not looking at Arthur’s expression. He took out a scrap of paper and a pencil, walked over to the other side of the table and started taking notes.

“Was this exceptional behaviour or does this happen quite a lot?” Merlin asked.

“It is quite rare that all four of us can be together at the same time, but I would be with someone at least two or three times a week.”

“And we are talking about the Knight-Captain, Sir Leon, and Sir Lance and Sir Gwaine, are we not? They have been your dearest friends since childhood, that is no secret,” stated Merlin.

Arthur frowned, but nodded.

“Are they the only men who penetrate you?” Merlin continued.

“Do you think I can allow any beer-sodden tramp in my arse?” exclaimed Arthur. “I am the King of Albion not some horny farm boy.”

“I understand that, but have you only ever been fucked by these three men?”

“Well, when I was a young knight I went a little wild with the other knights, but my father always warned me about the danger of ending up with the child of someone unsuitable, so I tended to be on top.”

“Very well,” replied Merlin, writing some notes. “How big are your lovers’ cocks?”

“Why on Earth would you need to know that,” the King asked. “They are big enough to bring me pleasure and fill me with come, isn’t that enough?” Arthur was now becoming a little red in the face.

“Trust me that I need to know,” Merlin said, looking unconcerned.

Arthur kept drinking. “Well Leon is the biggest. A head longer than two fists, nicely thick too. Gwaine is a little shorter, just over two fists but veiny and a long droopy foreskin.” Arthur’s eyes began to glaze over. “Lance’s is the shortest, only two fists just, but it’s so smooth and straight and dark I just want it in my throat as soon as I see it.” Arthur looked like he was daydreaming, while Merlin wondered how much wine was left in the jug.

“And your cock, My Lord?” asked Merlin, expressionless.

“Hmmm? I have Leon’s length, but not his thickness. I’ve never had any complaints,” Arthur replied, lifting his glass like he was toasting. “Why? Do you want to see?” he asked cheekily.

“That won’t be necessary My Lord,” Merlin murmured, while writing more notes down. After a moment he sat up, looking Arthur in the eyes.

“Well My Lord, I have good news for you,” began Merlin. “There’s nothing wrong with you, of that I can be sure.”

“Twenty years of barrenness would seem to disprove you,” retorted Arthur.

“As part of my healing studies, I spend a lot of time with the surviving texts of our Creators in order to discover more about our bodies. So I can discover just what it is that makes men of Albion so different to normal straight men in the rest of the world. Why we can live to 100, or bear children, why we are taller, stronger and resist almost all disease. And those texts are very clear, it is impossible for a man like us to be invirile. As they put it, we have been ‘engineered’ to be close to perfect,” Merlin explained.

“Merlin,” started Arthur, exasperatedly. “Over the past score of years, Leon, Gwaine and Lance have pumped enough come up my arse for me to have born an entire army.” He poured the remaining dregs of wine into his glass, looking disappointedly into the jug when it emptied.

Merlin finally cracked a small smile. “My Lord, it’s not a question of your virility, it is a question of your compatibility. In a society like ours, where sex is so open and freely available, I mean the two of us could walk into the barracks or the library right now and begin an orgy.” Arthur looked at Merlin doubtfully through slightly bloodshot eyes.  “If conception were easy then there would be too many men to feed. It appears we have been designed in a particular way to ensure that a balance with nature can be maintained.”

“Are you getting to the point eventually,” Arthur asked.

“As part of my studies,” Merlin began, “I have been reviewing the birth records kept by every sheriff to find the largest families. Most men of Albion have fathered one or two children by the time they turn 50. We have probably sired one or two as well. But we know there are some men who have far more children. Some who father ten or more, and some who have sired up to twenty. I wanted to discover if there was anything special about them to predict if this would happen.”

Arthur stood up from the table, walked carefully over to the door to his chamber and opening it.

“More wine!” he called out into the corridor, before slamming the door and returning to the table. He gestured to Merlin to continue. Merlin was getting worried that he would not be able to keep the King’s attention.

“Two facts have become clear from my studies. First, some couples are just more compatible together than others, presumably due to their individual physiologies. Second, men with cocks longer than three fists sire more children.”

Neither man said anything for a moment. The wine had not arrived yet, so Arthur could feel himself sobering a little.

“This has been very informative, young Merlin,” he said mockingly. “But apart from describing me as lacking, you have not suggested any solution.”

“Well My Lord,” Merlin replied, “my suggested solution is very simple but you have to decide whether you are willing to do it. Something about your body or that of Gwaine, Lance and Leon means that you are incompatible. You have told me that you have not slept with anyone else for some years. If you want a child you must find someone else. In fact, in your search for compatibility I recommend as many men as possible. As many three-fist-cocks as many times a week as you can. If after six months and you are still without child I would be very surprised.”

The door opened, with one of the serving boys carrying Arthur’s wine. He looked very grateful for its arrival. The youth placed the wine on the table, looked at the men staring at him, and walked out again without saying a word.

“So basically Merlin, you’re asking me to head to the nearest tavern, fondle every drunkard in sight and bend over the nearest barrel,” stated Arthur.

“That would be crude, but effective My Lord,” retorted Merlin. “I’m sure that you and your lovers could find other candidates in a less reckless manner.”

“How? Hold auditions?!” shouted the King. “Men of Albion! Drop your trousers and salute your King!” he bellowed.

“My Lord, what I mean is that you need to go out and form more relationships. Albion is not a large kingdom. We have all lost so much and we do not blame you for it for a moment because you have lost just as much, if not more. Stop holding yourself away from us.” Merlin paused. “There are other men, other soldiers out there who have lost everyone. They would probably like to chance to start something new as well. You still have a good decade of childbearing years.”

Arthur said nothing, but he poured another glass of wine. “Thank you Scholar Merlin,” he said. “You are dismissed.”

Merlin wasted no time in standing up from the table, bowing to his king and walking to the door.

“Oh Merlin,” Arthur interrupted. Merlin turned back to the King. “How did you discover the power of the three-fist-cock? You can hardly look at a man’s trousers and guess.”

Merlin smiled widely for the first time. “Well, when I found in the records which men had so many children, I just went and knocked on doors. When I explained what I was there for and that I just needed some measurements, almost all of them were happy to oblige. Men who are blessed are usually more than happy to share.

“If everyone enjoyed their work as much as I do then the world would be a much happier place.” And with that, Merlin left the King’s Chamber, leaving Arthur behind.

“No wonder Balinor didn’t want to be here,” he thought.

...

George had done exemplary work yet again. The Great Hall was heaving with the King’s loyal subjects, all ready to celebrate his birthday. The hall itself lacked the grandeur and finery that other kingdoms’ castles could offer, for it used to be an armoury and storeroom. But being located underneath the keep and close to all the kitchens and the barracks, it was the true heart of the fortress. The tapestries lining the walls attempted to make the space seem more royal but could not overcome the feeling that this was a place for soldiers, not princes.

There were three long tables, groaning under the weight of food. The fireplaces had not been lit because of the summer heat, instead they were the home of large barrels of beer. At the head of the middle table was a large high-backed wooden chair, the King’s Chair, while otherwise there were just long benches. But there was no place setting for Arthur had never sat there. That was Uther’s chair; Arthur’s place was with his knights.

The room was filled with every knight, town guardsman and scholar who was not needed at their post. Leon, Gwaine and Lance had arrived from the river, and after returning their children to the Library dormitories where most of the other children stayed, had found a place in the centre of the party, sitting slightly apart from one another so as to make room for Arthur when he arrived. For some reason he was late, so most of the men had started on the beer at least.

“Where the hell is he?” asked Gwaine. “Half of the men will be under the table before he gets here.”

“Balinor probably has him sulking,” replied Lance.

“But Balinor is over there with the librarians,” said Leon, pointing to the end of the table closest to the empty throne. “If they were still battling, Balinor wouldn’t be here either. If he doesn’t show in the next few minutes, you’ll have to drag him down here Gwaine.”

“Why me? I’ve started eating.”

“To stop you getting drunk so early, slow down would you?” pleaded Leon.

Gwaine started to argue but was interrupted by the sight of the standard-bearer standing on the main staircase. Soon enough, the entire room quietened.

“All rise for our Lord, the King!” the standard-bearer exclaimed. The room erupted into cheers as Arthur appeared on the staircase dressed as just one of the knights, without his crown or robes, in red shirt and trousers. Arthur gestured for the room to settle.

“Thank you all, thank you. Now feast and be merry while you’re still young enough to do so,” he joked. He walked down the stairs to the back of his father’s chair. He ran his hand reverently along the back, then walked down the aisle to where his friends sat, squeezing in between Gwaine and Leon. Acknowledging them, Arthur moved for the food. Gwaine looked at his King’s face, which was flushed and his eyes were a little bloodshot.

“You bastard, you’re already drunk,” Gwaine whispered. “You started the party early and I wasn’t invited. Shame on you.”

“There was no party,” replied Arthur archly. “I just needed a little refreshment this afternoon.”

“A little?” said Leon mockingly. “I can smell the wine on you Arthur, did you fall into a barrel?”

Lance looked a little more concerned, peering around Leon’s body. “Sir Balinor was being too harsh again wasn’t he? You know, we all respect him but he answers to you Arthur, not the other way around.”

Arthur finished swallowing his full cup of beer before replying. “He was just reminding me of my obligations, and suggested a new way of meeting them.” He paused. “By throwing his son at me.”

“What?!” exclaimed Leon. Lance choked on his beer, but Gwaine looked overjoyed, grinning madly.

“Merlin?! Oooh, he’s a wild one, you lucky bastard. That’s who you’ve been doing this afternoon,” leered Gwaine.

“I didn’t touch the man,” replied Arthur, swigging more beer. “He boasted of himself as some sort of master healer and scholar of sex. Told me that the reason I’m barren is because all your cocks are too small.” All three men looked indignant at that remark, turning their heads in unison to where Merlin was sitting; on another table surrounded by a group of other scholars. He happened to look up and meet their eyes, lifting his glass in a toast and smirking, before returning his attention to his friends.

“That little whore,” said Gwaine, impressed. “You’ve got yourself a wild one there Arthur. Merlin gave me a blow job between the bookshelves once. We were interrupted before I could return the favour. He’s very talented.” He started to make to lick his lips while still staring at the scholar. “Maybe I should invite him to the baths this evening, it’s bound to be a wild night and he’d be a lovely distraction.”

“Um, excuse me,” interrupted Lance. “What do you mean, we’re too small?” He still looked irritated.

“No one has dared to suggest I was lacking,” added Leon. “On the contrary actually, as you and a great many men are fully aware.”

“What he said,” emphasised Arthur, “was that men with cocks of three-fists or longer tend to sire more children. He advised that I go out and get fucked by as many different three-fist-cocks as I can, multiple times a week. Guaranteed a baby within six months.”

Lance and Leon looked shocked by Arthur’s statement. “That’s ridiculous, what does he expect you to do? Whore yourself out at the roughest tavern in Port Albion?” Leon asked. “You’re the King, not some kept boy.”

Gwaine, on the other hand, looked thrilled. “Arthur, is that why you’ve taken to the drink? Get a grip man! Can’t you see how brilliant this is?”

The other three men looked at Gwaine askance.

“Arthur,” Gwaine said quietly in his ear. “You have just been told, that for the good of the kingdom, that you must have the best sex with the biggest men in the entire land, for months on end. These will be the greatest months of your life!” he said, voice rising.

Leon and Lance looked at each other, frowning slightly. Arthur had just returned to his beer, looking less and less conscious.

“In fact, I’m going to help you immediately,” Gwaine continued.

“What are you going to do, hold auditions?” snarked Leon.

“Yes, actually,” replied Gwaine. “Clearly, Arthur can’t lay under any old tramp. Only the best men are good enough for our King. And it should be our job to find them boys. We know all the knights and guardsmen. We know their characters and we know what they look like with their clothes off. Leave it up to us Arthur, and we’ll find you the cream of Albion… to pump you full of cream.”

“Gwaine, maybe we should talk about this tomorrow, when we’re all sober and clear-headed,” murmured Lance. But Gwaine wasn’t listening, he was already scanning the crowd. Arthur by this point wasn’t listening either - he’d just started drinking Leon’s beer too.

…

Arthur didn’t really stop there either. Leon and Lance tried many times to get him to slow down but he ignored them, and sabotaged their attempts to take away his beer by joining in with drinking games with the other knights. It wasn’t a regal sight.

Gwaine, on the other hand, wasn’t helping at all. He started circling the room like a shark, greeting his friends by slapping them on the shoulder, whispering sweet nothings in their ears then throwing his head back with laughter. Eventually, he made it to a group of scholars including Merlin. Walking up behind him, Gwaine put both hands on Merlin’s shoulders, feeling him startle, before bending over and whispering in his ear.

“I hear you’ve been teasing our Lord all afternoon.”

Turning his head slightly Merlin replied, “It was actually quite serious. Trust me, I’d like to tease our golden King any time he wants, but today it was all business and no pleasure.” Merlin looked Gwaine in the eye. “Unlike you, who’s all about pleasure.”

Gwaine winked. “Will I see you in the baths tonight? It’s sure to be an evening to remember.”

“You never know,” Merlin replied. “After all, you owe me and I intend to collect.”

Gwaine grinned before moving on down the table. Merlin turned his attention to the King across the room. He seemed happy, but his lovers were looking concerned as they watched him drink. Arthur leaned across and whispered something to Leon. Leon looked unhappy and started to argue but the King cut him off and looked stern. He kept staring until Leon visibly gave in. Merlin watched as the Knight-Captain climbed onto the table, grabbing everyone’s attention.

“Men, the night is still young! Let’s move this celebration to the baths!” he called out. The men cheered and whooped. Some called out lewd comments while others tried to drag out their friends from under the table, where they had either passed out or where a few couples could already been seen blowing each other. They were grabbed by their mates and shoved in the right direction while completely naked and full erections leading the way.

Arthur had left the table to walk to the staircase. Leon and Lance had followed him continuing their argument, but the King looked unmoved. He kissed both his lovers on the lips, then walked up the stairs. Leon and Lance watched him go, then walked down the corridor to follow the rest of the knights.

...

Arthur made his way slowly but steadily to his chambers, walking up three flights of stairs and nodding at the odd servant he passed on the way. By the time he reached the top flight, the room was silent. He could hear no footsteps or chatter and the only light was from the flickering torches on the walls.

“My Lord!” someone called out.

Arthur turned around, holding onto the balustrade to keep his balance, to see Merlin standing at the bottom of the stairs.

“You’re not joining the rest in the baths? It’s your party after all,” said Merlin.

“I think I drank too much to be of use to anyone tonight,” replied Arthur. “My bed calls to me.” Arthur made to finish climbing the stairs.

“My Lord,” interrupted Merlin. “I hope that nothing I said today upset or insulted you.”

Arthur said nothing, just stared at Merlin. Merlin bit his lip with uncertainty.

“It was certainly not my intention to do so My Lord, I just wanted to help,” he continued.

Arthur sighed and moved to sit on the stairs, gesturing for Merlin to join him.

“You just gave me another reminder of my responsibilities,” said Arthur. “All I want is to go back ten years, to when I was a prince still having fun, when my parents were alive, when there was peace, when I could walk down the streets of the town and not see every second house be empty because the people who lived there are dead. Instead I’m here, where not even what I do with my body is completely my decision. That’s not your fault. And I will be fine tomorrow, but birthdays are not always easy days.”

“You know,” began Merlin. “You could pretend you were still a carefree prince. You could go back downstairs, strip-down, oil-up and plunge into that orgy head first. Lots would like to serve you, My Lord.”

“You know, I do miss them,” said Arthur, smirking. “The orgies and the constant sex with the knights. I haven’t done anything with them since my coronation. But that’s not my place any more.

“But you, young scholar, you should be down there having a good time. That’s what the party is for, and Gwaine mentioned that you had many talents to share.”

Merlin stared at the King for a moment, looking shy. “I will, My Lord, but before I do, I just want to take a chance on something.” And Merlin put his hand on Arthur’s thigh, slowly pushing it up before leaning in to place his lips on the King’s.

Arthur let the kiss happen without letting it deepen. He placed his hand on top of Merlin’s to stop it from moving.

“You know, not many men have the bravery to make a move on their King,” whispered Arthur, moving back from Merlin slightly. “Gwaine may vouch for your talents, but how will you prove yourself worthy of my attention.”

Merlin grinned. “There are men all over the Kingdom who can vouch for me. You should give me a chance to prove what I can do, My Lord.” Merlin moved his hand closer to Arthur’s crotch. Arthur didn’t try to stop it, until it rested on Arthur’s cock, gently squeezing the bulge.

Arthur moved back in to kiss Merlin properly, deep and wet. Merlin moaned, gripping Arthur’s cock more firmly and feeling it grow. The pair remained seated on the stairs kissing, Merlin groping the King through his trousers for several minutes.

Arthur pulled away from the kiss, holding Merlin’s head in his hands while stroking his cheekbones with his thumbs. “Enough,” Arthur said. “Show me what else this mouth can do.”

Merlin showed a wicked smile, dove in for one more harsh kiss before moving down to unlace his pants and pull out his cock. It was long, longer than two fists, dead straight and evenly pale along its entire length until the foreskin revealed a dark pink and weeping head. Merlin licked it from root to tip before starting to stroke as he took one of the King’s balls into his mouth and sucked.

Arthur’s groan could have been heard echoing through the corridors. Merlin soaked both balls in spit as he swapped them around in his mouth, almost ignoring the cock apart from the odd stroke.

“Stop teasing,” Arthur growled. Merlin complied by wrapping one fist around the base then swallowing down until lips met fingers. Humming with contentment, Merlin closed his throat around the head, causing Arthur to throw his head back and shout while Merlin got into a rhythm.

Arthur watched Merlin suck so hard his cheeks were hollow, while his pink lips were stretched wide from Arthur’s girth. They glistened with spit which dripped down the shaft, over Merlin’s hand onto Arthur’s balls and beyond. Every so often Merlin would pull off and target the slit to lap up his precome before stuffing it deep into his throat again.

Arthur grabbed Merlin’s head in his hands, forcing him up and down, yelling, “Take it! Take it! Fuck!”. Thirty seconds more and Arthur spilled down Merlin’s throat. As soon as he could tell Arthur was coming, Merlin pulled back, letting the come fill his mouth and ooze past his lips until his chin and neck were covered.

“You little fucking whore,” Arthur growled before grabbing Merlin’s face and licking off the come, kissing him deeply as they passed the seed between them.

“Told you I was worth it,” snarked Merlin, in between kisses.

“That you did,” replied Arthur. As they kissed, he let their breathing slow and waited until Merlin had relaxed a little, until he suddenly lunged for him and flipped Merlin onto his back. Merlin grunted as his spine hit the stone stairs but the King paid no attention, determined to return the favour and grasping at the laces holding Merlin’s pants closed. In frustration Arthur ripped them open, revealing the base of Merlin’s cock surrounded by fine black hair.

Merlin struggled taking off his shirt while Arthur was amazed to find one of the longest cocks he had ever seen. Maybe not quite as thick as Leon’s, but far longer - a real three-fister and then some. It had obviously been weeping for a long time because the head was soaked and Arthur leant down to sample the precome that had gathered.

“So you told me to go out and find some random monster cocks,” Arthur began, continuing to stroke Merlin. Merlin was biting his lip, feeling the pleasure. “You didn’t mention that you had one hanging down your trouser leg at the time.”

“I might have the cock,” replied Merlin with a sharp intake of breath, as Arthur massaged his thumb through the precome that kept dripping. “I might have the cock, but I’m not a King’s sire. That should be another warrior, like you.”

“You recommended I find as many cocks as I can,” said Arthur mockingly. “You have oil on you don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” said Merlin, pulling a vial out of his pocket.

“Then oil up.” Arthur stood up, pulled off his shirt revealing his muscular chest covered in blond hair then threw off his pants, his cock already returning to full mast. Merlin stared at his body while covering his own cock with oil.

“You ready Merlin, you’re about to fuck the King.” Arthur squatted over Merlin’s cock before lowering himself. Merlin placed his arms around Arthur’s waist. “Don’t let me fall backwards,” the King warned.

Arthur had had Gwaine and Lance fuck him at the same time only a night ago, so Merlin’s girth was no problem as he went deeper. But Arthur still look it easy because when he reached the depth that Leon did, Merlin kept going at least another three inches. When he finally felt Merlin’s hair on his arse, Arthur let out a deep and loud groan that was almost a shout.

Making sure that Merlin kept a tight grip on his hips so he didn’t fall down the stairs, Arthur started to grind himself on the cock then pushed himself up and down, feeling the pleasure spread from his arse up his spine to explode in his head. His own cock was fully hard again, dripping precome all over Merlin’s chest and pooling in his abs and bellybutton.

Merlin couldn’t take his eyes off the golden King who almost glowed as they fucked harder. And after only a few minutes Arthur stopped groaning and started shouting, “Fuck me! Fuck me Merlin!” and then let out a wail as he came without touching himself, come flying into Merlin’s face and drenching his body. His climax lasted a good minute and he clenched around Merlin’s cock so hard Merlin almost joined him but he managed to hold off. Instead he tried to hold himself together while Arthur’s chest heaved.

As Arthur relaxed with the odd aftershock still sparking up his spine, he could feel Merlin still hard and massive in his arse. Wickedly he clenched hard around it to see Merlin tense, squeezing Arthur’s hips hard enough to leave bruises.

“Well done Merlin,” Arthur rasped. “But you don’t think I’m going to leave you unsatisfied do you?” Arthur started to grind into Merlin’s groin again, making Merlin groan. But all of a sudden Arthur stood, feeling the burn in his thighs as he did so, and letting Merlin’s cock fall out of his channel. Looking down it looked angry and red but it stood straight up at the ceiling, ready to unleash Merlin’s seed. Not saying a word, Arthur stepped over Merlin’s prone body to hold onto the stair rail and bent over. Putting his arse on display, Arthur turned his head to Merlin and said, “Time to show me what you’re really made of.”

Merlin could see Arthur’s hole, red and gaping slightly, with Arthur clenching to make it wink in invitation. Gritting his teeth and clenching his jaw, Merlin stood up, kicked off the clothes that had pooled at his ankles, grabbed Arthur by the hips and forced his cock deep into that hole. Arthur howled.

Merlin thrusted so hard it made the stair rail shake. Arthur could see over it to a small crowd of servants that had gathered at the foot of the stairs. But despite of the certainty that this gossip would spread through the entire castle like wildfire, neither man cared.

“Harder Merlin, harder,” cried Arthur.

“Shut up!” Merlin replied, slapping Arthur’s cheeks. “Just shut your mouth and take my cock.” But Arthur felt him shove harder, with Merlin’s balls slapping him so hard it almost hurt.

Arthur could feel his climax rising again, just that spark of pleasure in his arse getting ready to spread. Merlin must have been able to tell because he grabbed his King by his hair, making him arch his back and whispered in his ear, “Even if you have every man in Albion in this arse, and father a million children, you won’t ever forget this moment. When I had you in front of the entire castle and you took it like the perfect whore.” Then he reached around to grab Arthur’s cock and that was it. The King bellowed and exploded again.

Only this time was enough to send Merlin over the edge too so while Arthur sprayed his seed into the air, Merlin poured his into Arthur’s core. He kept thrusting through his climax, feeling his come leak out to drench their bodies where they joined. It took another minute for their cocks to stop spurting but their bodies were still twitching and tense.

All of Merlin’s aggression seemed to have disappeared, now letting his hands roam Arthur’s body in a caress while he placed light kisses on his back, but he made no move to leave Arthur’s channel. The pair remained where they stood, breathing heavily, wet but satisfied. And that’s where they stayed as Merlin softened, until Arthur suddenly clenched and bellowed again, but this time in pain.

“Arthur?! What’s going on?” Merlin asked in a panic, pulling out of Arthur and having to grab him to keep his balance as Arthur’s arms had gone to his stomach. Arthur didn’t answer, just groaned as he went to fall to the floor, but Merlin kept him upright until he could seat them both on the stairs.

“Arthur?” asked Merlin, wide-eyed. Arthur just looked back at him, with tears in his eyes, but didn’t reply as he doubled over in pain again.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck,” the King shouted.

“Is it… is it,” Merlin stammered.

“Of course it fucking is!” shouted Arthur.

They said nothing else, Arthur clenching his teeth through the pain, while Merlin placed his arms around him and rubbed his back. After a handful of minutes, the pain started to subside and Merlin could feel Arthur begin to relax again. Arthur fell against Merlin, dropping his head onto Merlin’s shoulder.

“What do you want to do now?” asked Merlin.

“Well, I’m going to my chambers, I’m going to wash your come off me, and I’m going to bed.”

“Oh,” replied Merlin. “OK,” and moved to stand, but Arthur grabbed him by the wrist.

“And you Merlin,” continued Arthur. “You are coming with me to sleep in my bed. Because in the morning, you are going to fuck me again and then you will be the one to tell Sir Balinor that he will be the grandsire of the next King of Albion.”

  
  



	2. In The Baths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party continues for the men of Albion.

Deep below the keep, in fact directly below the Great Hall itself, was the reason the Castle of Albion had been built in that spot - a natural hot spring. Originally needed as a supply of water during sieges, the spring had also become a source of leisure and relaxation for the men of the castle.

Over the decades the cavern had been expanded, with the trickle of water becoming a series of pools excavated from the rock where men could bathe, relax and fuck. Any resident or worker of the castle could use the baths with servants commonly sitting alongside lords and knights, because all men are equal when naked. It had become a deeply important place in the lives of the men of Albion, and with so many children being conceived by men who had joined in the water, it had gained a sort of legendary reputation as a place of fertility.

But on this evening, the intention was to celebrate their King’s birthday. More than a hundred men had poured into the cavern ready to drink and fuck the night away. Gwaine, as usual, was one of the most eager. But not only was he focused on his own pleasure, tonight he was to begin his quest to find cocks worthy of fucking their King.

Jostling his way through the crowd as they moved down the stairs and passageways, Gwaine joked and sang with the rest of the men, many of whom still held onto their pints of ale. At the bottom of the stairs were a set of enormous wooden doors more than twelve feet high. The men pushed them open and steam from the baths gushed out. As they walked through, they all immediately turned to the left or the right.

Gwaine turned to the right to find a nook that had been carved out of the stone and started stripping off, placing each item of clothing in the wall to be retrieved later. He then moved to where large barrels of oil had been placed in front of the doors; the naked men rubbed the oil all over their body, making their muscles gleam in the lamplight. Gwaine paid particular attention to his cock and arse, making sure they were both slick and ready for action.

Sir Valiant stood next to Gwaine to do the same, stroking his already fully erect cock then plunging four fingers into his arse to prepare it. Gwaine put his arm around his friend, gave him a wink, and then added two of his own fingers to Valiant’s channel. The two men smiled at each other but were then shoved away by others trying to prepare themselves too.

After a few minutes had passed the baths were heaving with men ready to play. The far end of the cavern was where there were three heated pools of slightly different temperatures. One side of the room was relatively straight and lined with long wooden benches, while the other had a series of smaller caves coming off the main room, where smaller groups could gather for a little extra privacy. Here the servants had placed piles of heated stones which they could pour water over to create more steam.

Gwaine’s reputation preceded him and a lot of the men glanced in his direction, offering a coy smile or arching their back to stick their arse out more. But instead of jumping into the nearest mass of bodies, he instead moved to the benches and took a seat, spreading his legs wide and absent-mindedly fondling himself. He was here to observe, at least for a little while.

Just after he sat down, Gwaine saw Leon and Lance sneak in late. They stripped down and oiled up like everyone else. Gwaine was probably biased but he thought they were the two most beautiful men in the entire room. After a quick kiss and a tug on each other’s cock, Leon and Lance split up, Leon heading straight for the baths while Lance made eye contact with Gwaine and joined him on the bench.

Lance gave Gwaine a brief dirty kiss and grabbed his cock, Gwaine did the same and the two men crossed arms and stroked each other as they watched the room.

“So when do auditions start?” asked Lance, watching Gwaine watch the crowd.

“Stop making fun,” replied Gwaine. “This is serious business. We need to find Arthur at least a handful of cocks to begin with.” He kept his hand on Lance but Gwaine’s attention was elsewhere. From his position he could see most of the room, including the cave directly in front of him where there was a small crowd gathered. They parted for a moment to reveal Valiant on his hands and knees being fisted by one of the older guardsmen. The other men were cheering him on but Valiant looked out of it with his eyes rolled back. But his cock was rock hard and a string of precome linked it to the floor.

“Some of the squires have snuck in,” muttered Lance, pointing to Mordred. Generally speaking the youths were kept separate from the men, though some of the older squires paid no attention. The rule was that if you looked like a man you could fuck like a man, though most avoided fucking those too young to be a father themselves. Mordred, however, was notorious for seducing the older knights for while he still had a bit of a baby face, he had a big cock with hair and he knew how to use it.

Tonight it appeared to be Sir Tristan’s turn. Mordred was sitting on his lap as the two of them tongued and pawed at each other. While Mordred had the two cocks in his hand and was rubbing them together, Tristan had reached around and plunged four fingers into Mordred’s arse, slamming them in and out.

“Can we help you, gentlemen?” interrupted Edward and Edmund. These two teenaged squires were still youthful but well-endowed, and without waiting for a response, they both dropped to their knees and took the knights’ cocks straight into their mouths. Edward took Lance into his throat without hesitation, but Edmund choked a little with Gwaine’s. Gwaine grabbed put his hands on either side of Edmund’s head to guide him for a moment, not letting him pull back but helping his rhythm while stroking his hair. Pretty soon the two boys had the knights throwing their heads back in bliss.

“You boys have been training real hard,” panted Lance. “Your dedication to duty is noted and appreciated. In fact, I will schedule you extra training sessions tomorrow.” In response Edward began to pull at Lance’s balls.

Gwaine was enjoying himself too, but his mind was elsewhere. He was scanning the room, judging what was on offer like he was at the wharf admiring the merchants’ wares. Gwaine knew almost all of the men intimately, but the problem was, how to find someone appropriate for the King? A big cock was not enough; they needed to be wise and responsible because even if he and Arthur did not form a long term relationship, he would be a member of the royal household for the rest of his life. Not too old to actively raise children, but not too young either. In other words, a gentleman. Gwaine had fucked them all but no one was coming to mind.

Which was when he saw him.

Which was when any thought of King Arthur left his mind completely.

Gwaine was mesmerised by the figure who had just walked out of the pools. Probably the tallest man in the entire room and the broadest too, but his body was still young and hinting at muscles that were yet to develop. His chest was without hair and perfectly chiseled and defined, while his arms and legs would make any warrior, including Gwaine, feel small. And his cock, not only far longer than three fists but as thick as a wrist, covered in veins and a lengthy foreskin. Normally a cock of such scale would succumb to gravity but this one pointed out straight, displaying its master’s virility and demanding attention.

Gwaine had seen the teenaged squire Percival. He watched him walk away from the pools and through the chamber. Gwaine could see Percival tense, knowing that he had almost every pair of eyes in the room staring at him. He was clearly uncomfortable but his relentless teenage libido made him determined to take his place among the men of the castle. And Gwaine was determined to welcome him.

Without a word he pulled out of Edmund’s throat, a string of saliva linking cock to lips for just a second. He stood up, and with the squires and Lance staring at him, walked across the room, almost shoving other men out of the way until he stood in front of Percival. Percival looked at Gwaine’s eyes for a moment before dropping them, taking in the sight of his captain’s glistening body including his spit-slicked cock.

Gwaine dropped to his knees, causing Percival’s eyes to widen and then he spluttered, “Sir, what are you…” But he got no further as Gwaine started to suck on his balls. Percival stopped trying to talk, just started to breathe heavily without ever taking his eyes off the knight kneeling before him.

Gwaine covered both of Percival’s balls with spit, sucking on one while massaging the other with his fingers. When they were both slick he began to lick his way up the shaft while moving one hand between Percival’s legs, his fingers finding the tight, virginal opening. They just circled the hole as Gwaine’s mouth began to lavish attention on the head of the cock.

Percival was too thick for Gwaine to get any further than just below the head, getting it down his throat was out of the question. So with one hand playing with Percival’s arse, the other stroked his lengthy cock as his lips and tongue became covered in endless amounts of precome oozing from the slit.

Percival kept staring at Gwaine, totally ignorant of the crowd that had gathered around the pair. Gwaine knew that the teenager was getting close, he could hear Percival breathing and could feel the tremors running through his legs.

When he stood up, Gwaine noticed their crowd of onlookers. They had formed a semicircle around the pair and the benches behind them. Continuing to stroke Percival’s cock, he grinned wickedly and stood up on tip toes to whisper in Percival’s ear, “We can’t disappoint our fans, squire. We had better put on a show.

“How many times has this weapon been put to use?” Gwaine asked.

Percival said nothing, just avoided eye contact for the first time. Gwaine stopped stroking for a moment, wondering whether taking the youth’s virginity in this way was an act too far even for him. But he wanted that cock in his arse too badly.

“I’m giving you a chance to back out, squire,” Gwaine stated. “You can go back to being a wallflower if you like, or you can be a man and fuck me.” He kept a tight grip on Percival’s cock as he said this.

Percival, for the first time, seemed to notice his audience and looked around. He took a deep breath, looked down at the senior knight and whispered back, “Sir, if you’ll let me, I’ll fuck you so hard that you’ll be gaping for weeks.” He then picked up Gwaine by the arse, the older man yelped but wrapped his legs around the teen anyway and Percival walked them backwards until he felt his heels hit the wooden bench and sat down.

Sitting in his lap, Gwaine was having flashbacks to the many times he had been in this position as a squire. He attached himself to Percival’s lips again while grinding their cocks together - his own resting on top of Percival’s much thicker and longer weapon. With his legs still wrapped around Percival’s body, Gwaine’s arse was on display and easily accessible. Percival was tentatively rubbing his hole, feeling it yield to his fingers.

Suddenly Gwaine felt a pair of much more confident digits plunge into his arse, stretching and lubing as they went. He turned his head to see Lance helping to prepare him. “Always looking out for you, my dear,” said Lance leeringly, pushing in four fingers while guiding a couple of Percival’s as well and showing him the exact location of Gwaine’s pleasure spot.

The sensation was almost too much for Gwaine already, as he clenched his eyes shut and dropped his head under Percival’s chin. He could still feel that massive cock throbbing underneath him and he knew all he could do was focus on staying relaxed and open.

Lance stopped moving his fingers and whispered in Gwaine’s ear, “You ready?”

Gwaine just whimpered his acquiescence. He felt Lance’s fingers withdraw and his voice say, “Show time Percy.”

Lance retreated to the gathering crowd surrounding the pair. Percival grabbed Gwaine by the waist and lifted him like a ragdoll, pushing his cock underneath and behind until it rested along Gwaine’s crease, a solid and scorching presence. Gwaine pushed back against it, reaching back with his hand to feel what was about to split him open. Bracing his knees on the bench, Gwaine pushed himself up until he could feel Percival’s head waiting at his entrance. Both men were shaking from the strain and the excitement, as Gwaine rubbed Percival’s cock around his hole, spreading his precome in an attempt to help passage. With every pass over his hole, Gwaine could feel sparks up his spine. He could feel Percival taking deep breaths under him, knowing that this was driving him to the edge too.

Percival grabbed Gwaine’s, both of them holding his cock in place. Gwaine looked him in the eyes, there was nervousness but he was determined to make good on his promise. Gwaine bore down, pushing himself open - and the cock didn’t move. He pushed harder and he could feel his thighs burn from holding this position but despite the relentless pressure his hole didn’t give.

Until Percival just shoved his hips up and plunged himself into Gwaine’s body.

Out of the thousands of times Gwaine had been fucked in his life, the only time it had ever hurt was his first and even then it was brief, like muscles burning after using them properly for the first time.

This time, the scream could have been heard in the Great Hall.

When Percival heard the scream he started to withdraw just as fast but Gwaine’s body clenched onto him and Gwaine’s fist gripped his shaft so tight he could not move. Which was exactly what the groaning, panting Gwaine needed.

“Kid, have you lost your mind?!” he growled. “Don’t you dare move one inch.”

The shaking giant beneath him moved his hands to Gwaine’s waist but otherwise remained frozen. Gwaine, breathing deeply and turning red in the face, tried to get used to the feeling. His thighs burned with the strain of keeping himself upright. He was sure that even Valiant would have trouble with this.

“Lance, more oil!” he called out. He heard his lover move towards them and rub more oil onto Percival’s cock and where it entered his body. He slowly began to clench and unclench his arse around the head of Percival’s cock, rotating himself around the pillar in his channel. Looking at Percival, Gwaine could tell that this was clearly bringing the teen to the brink, no matter how bad he may have felt about causing the older man pain.

This was the moment when his thighs gave way and Gwaine’s body dropped, forcing the pillar deep within him.

This time both men’s screams could be heard from the Great Hall - Gwaine from pain once again but Percival from unloading his seed into the arse of another for the first time in his life. His hands formed a vice around Gwaine’s waist and he couldn’t help but thrust himself deeper into Gwaine’s body, out of his mind with bliss.

Meanwhile the shock of the invasion had almost made Gwaine pass out. Barely conscious, it was like he could not even process the pain any more - it was just too much sensation too quickly. Eventually he could focus just enough to view his partner through tears in his eyes. Percival was red-faced and wide-eyed, but he could not hide the hint of a smile on his face. Guilt warred with triumph as he muttered, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”, hugging Gwaine’s torso.

Neither man moved. As they calmed they became more aware of the crowd around them. Percival became bashful and buried his face in Gwaine’s neck. Gwaine turned his head from side to side, seeing all his soldiers with cocks in hand wanking furiously to the sight of their fellow knight getting fucked by the biggest weapon in the kingdom. He couldn’t see Lance or Leon, but he was interrupted by Percival shifting below him and suddenly the teen’s still rock hard cock struck a place sending a shockwave of pleasure through him.

Gwaine grunted, turning his attention back to Percival who looked at him, bashfully. With the pain still there, Gwaine started clenching his muscles again, slowly getting used to the ache. He began to roll his body around, moving no more than an inch, desperately trying to get used to the invader. Every so often another spike of pleasure would push through the pain. He was focused on finding that pleasure and holding on to it.

With the oil and Percival’s seed easing the way, Gwaine started making braver moves up and down. Percival moved his hands to Gwaine’s arse, spreading and massaging his cheeks. The pair was now feeding off the crowd’s growing excitement with Percival matching Gwaine’s movements stroke for stroke, neither of them taking their eyes off the other.

Gwaine was feeling the pleasure more regularly now, the pain had retreated to a dull ache. Percival’s cock was so massive it was touching every single pleasure point inside him so he started grinding down onto Percival’s crotch, seeing just how much cock he could fit inside him.

The other knights were becoming rowdier now, feeding off the sexual energy that Gwaine and Percival were creating. Gwaine heard one voice, sounding a lot like Leon, call out, “Come on lad, fuck him properly!”

Percival responded by tightening his grip on Gwaine and standing up again. The sudden movement forcing Gwaine to call out in bliss. Percival turned to lay Gwaine down on the bench on his back, his cock never leaving Gwaine’s passage for a moment. Grabbing onto Gwaine’s ankles and spreading his legs wide, Percival looked at his partner with raised eyebrows as if to say, “Ready?” and withdrew his cock all the way, leaving a massive void in Gwaine’s body.

Until he plunged himself back in.

For Gwaine, from that moment on, pleasure and pain were indistinguishable. There was just sensation. At one point he thought he had come, but he couldn’t really tell and his vision wasn’t clear enough to see. Nothing else mattered except the cock in his arse, the pounding that a frenzied Percival delivered that seemed never-ending.

Until it did.

Finding one more untouched inch inside, Percival buried himself and unleashed his seed, bellowing to the room that he had reached his climax. For more than a minute Percival poured himself into Gwaine’s body, experiencing the kind of mind-blowing pleasure that defined the life of a Man of Albion.

Both men slowly returned to their senses, Percival running his hands over Gwaine’s body and rubbing the come that Gwaine had released into his chest, being almost reverent to his partner. Gwaine started to catch his breath, feeling the ache all over his body and embracing it.

Until that ache turned into a much sharper pain in his gut.

Gwaine’s eyes grew wide as he knew what that meant. Percival’s eyes grew wide because Gwaine had just clenched hard around his still hard cock. Gwaine grabbed Percival’s forearms, silently begging him not to move, his hands turning white from squeezing so hard.

The crowd that had gathered around the pair had now turned their attention elsewhere. So inspired by the show, the caves had turned into an orgy with pairs, trios and groups fucking everywhere. However, at least one man had noticed that something wasn’t quite right, as Lance sat down by Gwaine’s head, peering over and looking into his friend’s face with concern.

“Gwaine,” he whispered. “Has the man-child fucked a kid into you?”

When Percival heard that, he yelped and tried to withdraw but Gwaine’s grip was too strong to let him move comfortably. Gwaine just whimpered through the entire thing, doing his best not to show any outward signs of pain so that he didn’t become the centre of attention again. Lance just shushed him and stroked his hair, maintaining a show of calm.

The pain was coming in waves now, and Gwaine was involuntarily pulsing around Percival’s cock, which was still hard and plugged into Gwaine’s body. Percival was now panicking over two things - that he was going to be a sire at eighteen, and that he was about to come a third time. He took deep breaths and tried to hold it off, but he had to give in and another load of seed flooded into Gwaine’s hole.

Lance just stared at him but Gwaine hissed, “Are you serious?!”

Percival just groaned quietly. And there the trio remained, until the agony in Gwaine’s gut began to subside and Percival’s cock softened just enough for it to flop out of Gwaine’s channel followed by a cupful of white, teenaged seed.

 

* * *

 

Dawn brought calm to the pools and to the rest of the castle. However, as the sky just began to brighten, in one chamber things were far from peaceful.

“Harder Merlin, fuck me harder,” screamed Arthur, on his back with his hands clenching the headboard of his bed for dear life.

“I thought you said I was going to get a turn on my back,” grunted Merlin, trying to increase his pace as he slammed his engorged cock into his king’s hole.

“All in good time,” huffed Arthur. He was out of breath too, his face red and sweaty, his golden hair limp and stuck to his forehead. “But right now, I demand you to fuck the come out of me.”

Arthur’s cock was red and dripping, jerking around on his abdominal muscles that were covered in the remains of the night’s events.

Merlin scowled, but paused only to grab another pillow to push under Arthur’s arse, changing the angle and causing the King to wail after the next inward thrust.

The wailing and thrusting continued for a few moments more, when Arthur’s cock exploded, his seed covering his chest and pooling in the deep grooves between his muscles. His body clenched around Merlin’s cock so tight it sent him over the edge too - spilling deeply into the core of his lover.

The men decoupled, Merlin collapsing on his back at Arthur’s side, both of them staring at the canopy of the royal bed. Merlin looked exhausted but Arthur looked exhilarated. His smile had never been broader; it was as if he was glowing. Turning to his partner, he snuggled into Merlin’s neck, threw a leg over Merlin’s and grabbed his cock, slowly massaging the still tumescent weapon covered in oil and come.

“There is no way I’m fucking you a seventh time Arthur,” muttered Merlin.

Arthur just hummed in response, licking Merlin’s neck and feeling his pulse race under his tongue.

Merlin squirmed. “Who would have thought,” he started, trying to regain some control. “The King of Albion would be happiest on his back.”

“That’s not true,” retorted Arthur. “I’m equally happy on my hands and knees.”

Merlin just laughed a little and let Arthur carry on with his fondling. He knew nothing would come of it this time.

In that position the pair stayed. Merlin even began to doze off until he felt Arthur move. Opening his eyes he watched his partner move onto his back, looking truly content with a smile on his face. Merlin watched him for a minute or two, the King was truly one of the most beautiful men in the entire kingdom and Merlin still could not quite believe that he was in this position.

Deciding that it would be better to wash rather than fall asleep, Merlin made to stand but Arthur held him back.

“Where are you off to?” the King asked, smile turning from blissful to mischievous.

“You’ve drenched me in so much sweat, oil and come; I can feel it everywhere,” replied Merlin. “The baths should be empty by now, it’s almost dawn after all.”

“Very well,” said Arthur, getting up from the bed himself to get dressed. While Merlin put his clothes back on, Arthur just threw a robe over his shoulders.

“You were not so enthusiastic to use the baths a few hours ago,” teased Merlin. Arthur just laughed and replied, “Life was very different a few hours ago. You have just answered every question.”

Arthur grabbed Merlin around the waist and kissed him. But this time it felt something different than sexual.

“It’s a new beginning.”


End file.
